When I was younger, I made my mom a card, sent jewelry or flowers, and completely took for granted that I had a great mom who knew I loved her and knew she loved me.

Then I became a mom.

Again, mother’s day was just another day that my family celebrated. I knew Macy loved me every day, so it wasn’t much different than a random Tuesday. For the 19 days I had Caleb, the bond was strong. I loved him, and he loved me.

You know. That gut-wrenching feeling in the pit of your stomach that makes you secretly hate yourself.

Those memories of all the times you've messed up in the past. That you're dirty. Or unloved. Or unworthy of love.

It seems there is an epidemic of feelings of shame in our society.

Not to be dramatic, but the enemy is having a hay day wreaking havoc in the minds of women everywhere. What better way to distract you from doing all the things you were designed to do than devastating you with all these feelings?

In the eleven years since the death of my beloved husband, curly red-headed precocious five and a half-year-old, and perfect blonde haired, blue eyed two and a half week old baby boy, the Lord has allowed me to experience a taste of the pain I felt immediately following the wreck.

And the pain was intense.

And it hurt.

And it dropped me to my knees.

And today I am thankful for feeling all the feels again because it allows me to meet you where you are in your pain.

I can look you in the eye and promise that you will not always feel this way.

I won’t lie and tell you the road is easy. It isn’t.

But you, dear one in the midst of your pain, can come out on the other side. You won’t be the same… but you can know joy again.

I don't know about you, but trying to come up with thoughtful, personalized gifts is hard. This year I decided to take notes throughout the year so I wouldn't have to stress last minute, and I figured maybe you could use it too.

You may immediately see brown hair and green eyes, freckles and a chickenpox scar. You might see ears that stick out just a little too much for your liking. Maybe you see fine lines and wrinkles that tell your age.

Do you see kindness? Do you see love? Do patience and acceptance stare back at you? Are you looking at forgiveness and grace? Is there the reflection of joy and contentment?

Are you accompanied by anger and resentment? Is hatred present? Is bitterness there?

It’s quite possible you see all of this. On any given day. Depending on your mood. Depending on your circumstance.

You may immediately see brown hair and green eyes, freckles and a chickenpox scar. You might see ears that stick out just a little too much for your liking. Maybe you see fine lines and wrinkles that tell your age.

Do you see kindness? Do you see love? Do patience and acceptance stare back at you? Are you looking at forgiveness and grace? Is there the reflection of joy and contentment?

Are you accompanied by anger and resentment? Is hatred present? Is bitterness there?

It’s quite possible you see all of this. On any given day. Depending on your mood. Depending on your circumstance.

You know that feeling you get when you walk into the room for the first time, and you don’t know anyone. I’m talking, one hundred percent, flying solo, a sea of faces, not one is familiar, and your stomach feels like it’s about to fall out of your body.

I don’t care whether you are an extrovert, introvert, or ambivert (a combo of both), outgoing or shy, almost everybody will have some feelings of anxiety or even panic.

If you have found yourself in a new church (new community, new school, new anything), you are familiar with this feeling. When faced with this pit in your stomach, what did you do? Did you run out of the room, never to return, or did you push through those uncomfortable feelings?

The thought of starting at a new church can be a daunting task. Change can be hard. Change can also be a beautiful thing. What wonderful opportunities and connections are waiting for you? What does God have in store?

What if interruptions in our lives are divine appointments rather than devilish schemes?

Originally, I wasn’t planning to go on the cruise.

Friends were all going to celebrate accomplishments in their business, but I felt like I needed to spend time at home getting my ducks in a row. About two weeks before the cruise, two women had to cancel, which left two non-refundable spots available.

It’s a sign!

A friend and I decided to jump onboard (pun intended) and got tickets to Florida to set sail with the rest of our friends.

We can make our plans, but the Lord determines our steps. Proverbs 16:9

My preference would have been to fly down the day before, since flight delays could mean missing the cruise’s departure; however, the cheapest tickets available put us in town with JUST enough time to set sail! Two flights, checked baggage arrival, and the shuttle ride to the ship had to coordinate smoothly to make this happen. My mom was busy at home praying that everything would be on schedule and that I would make the call time.

No. It's not the local tabloid. It's domestic violence, and it's happening in a home near you.

Maybe it's your home.

If it is, you're not alone.

And it's not your fault.

No matter what he says or how he makes you feel. It's not your fault.

Perhaps you're questioning if this is happening to you now.

As you ponder the words domestic violence, you think of those NBC Dateline segments and conclude your boyfriend isn't that bad. You think of Jennifer Lopez in Enough and decide your husband isn't that dangerous.

If you had to choose a silver-screen love story, which would be your favorite?

·the fiercely assertive Scarlet and Rhett in Gone with the Wind

·the adventures of summer vacation with Baby and Johnny in Dirty Dancing

·Dorothy and Jerry with their “You complete me” and “You had me at hello” from Jerry Maguire

·the passionately committed Noah and Allie in The Notebook

If you’re like me, you grew up admiring these great loves and fantasized about your own, convinced you’d find the one, have a fairy tale wedding, and live happily ever after. Just like in the movies. Right? Of course!

Well, if you’re like me, you know it didn’t quite go that way. You probably chose poorly between an Ashley and a Rhett. You realized your summer fling should have been just that—a summer romance, not a life-time commitment. And those one-liners were momentary promises never meant to be kept.

I fell in love for the first time at 14. No I didn’t. I had my first crush at 14. He was the hottest thing in junior high, and I was stoked to call him my boyfriend. His name was Raymond. Our young love lasted through the spring of our freshman year then he moved. Boy, was I heartbroken. Not really. I found a new crush my sophomore year.

Chances are if you have moved and tried looking for a new church, you have gone shopping for a church. For many, finding a new church home becomes a daunting and intimidating journey.

You would think that as an Army brat, growing up moving every two years and always meeting new people, I would be the best greeter at my church. If you have checked out the Tribe’s bio page, Abby even titled me as “connector,” yet one area I feel I fail at time and time again is greeting and introducing myself to new people at our church.

After moving to Virginia, I started attending church with my husband where his family have been members for over 70 years. I enjoyed the pastor’s sermons and made myself at home. It felt like a good fit and one that didn’t take much effort. I am forever grateful for this since I sort of “married into it,” which was definitely divine intervention!

For a girl who didn’t grow up around family, it was exciting to feel I like I knew everyone at our church. Of course, I really didn’t know everyone, but it felt like I did and that allowed me to coast through the next 6 years without having to introduce myself to too many people. As the years went on, I eased into my new role of being a “long time member” and started assuming I either knew everyone or they knew me, or at least we recognized each other enough to give a warm smile!

Popped a pill or two just to feel momentary happiness or relief from the crazy.

Hid in your house and slept on the couch to avoid the day.

Resorted to casual sexual encounters, mistaking them for love or validation.

Rejected those closest to you, convinced they wouldn’t understand.

Decided to be part of the crowd so you’d belong.

Didn’t work, did it?

I know. It’s okay. None of these worked for me either.

For years I stumbled through life doing things my way. I made lists. I checked the calendar. I talked it out. I rationalized. I theorized. I read books. I weighed options. I considered pros and cons. I basically relied on me. I’m smart. Surely I’m capable.

While I in no way discredit the value of these actions, I readily admit there was one thing missing.

How many of you read the blog posts in the beginning of the summer about embracing your body, putting your swimsuit on, and enjoying life (like this one)?

Like many of my friends, I read those and thought “YES. THIS.” I truly appreciate these women encouraging other women to put on our swimsuits and not let our insecurities get in the way of living life! I know it helped remind me that making memories and getting in the picture matters more than how I look!

So, if that was you too, how is it going for you?

If you are anything like me, you WANT to embrace your body and set a good example for your kids, regardless of what shape you are in, but the Struggle. Is. Real.

Does reading an encouraging blog post result in discarding those old negative tapes playing in your head so that you are now suddenly feeling confident to DO all of those things without insecurities stopping you? For some of you, yes, and that rocks! A simple mind shift and you are ready to roll.

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